Antiquity
by Andimpink
Summary: A man wearing a stark porcelain white mask with the greenest eyes and the neatest velvet black hair was on my bed. Looking at me from inside the handheld mirror... Erik x OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Well, amidst the making of Hyacinth Corner, I came up with this really grand idea. I've spent a month getting this first chapter ready and I believe it is ready to be viewed. Just a little reminder...**

**DISCLAIMER: I only own Cheyanne, Selena, and other characters that have no relation to Phantom of the Opera, whatsoever. Andimpink on own POTO, kapeesh?**

**Chapter 1**

"Selena," I turned around to face my friend and roomie, Cheyanne, who was bee-lining across the college campus towards me. Cheyanne had the longest, biggest, softest red hair and eyes green as the grass in the front yard of the White House; freckles covered her pale nose and cheeks. Her temper matched the top of her head: big and dramatic. She was always exaggerating stories she told and acting like they had a way bigger impact on her than they actually did. Not to mention, we can almost never get her to shut her mouth. Cheyanne is a cheerleader for Boise State University and a softball player. She was getting her associates in Nursing.

I am a brunette with plain blue eyes. My skin is void of speckles and is tanned from many hours in the sun. When I'm around people I know, I am talkative, just not as much as my best friend. Whereas Cheyanne is sporty, I am the exact opposite. I am into theatre, orchestra, art, and band. Anything that didn't include physical activity, I was into. How Cheyanne and I got along was a mystery, but we somehow clicked. I was here for my associates in nursing as well.

"Selena, I need your help." my red-headed friend said, out of breath from her dash across campus. "I've been dared to go into the old prop room by Marina Clemens. She says my ego is too inflated like my hair. Please help me."

"I guess. It is about time somebody goes through the stuff in there." I replied as we began walking to the theatre. Let me explain something; the old prop room is basically what its name says. The catch is, people think that it's haunted by a ghost of a student years ago. In all actuality, it is just a room for dusty old theatre things.

Into the theatre building we went. The foyer was empty since the school day was over with, but it didn't take from the extravagance. It was really big and posters from previous productions hung around the room. A few fake plants were placed around the room. Down one of the hallways was the door that would open to the old prop room. The outside world seemed to fade away as we walked down that hall. Maybe it was just me, but it felt slightly chillier standing in front of the door. It's nothing but your imagination.

"Here we go, I guess." Cheyanne twisted the knob and the door glided open noiselessly. It was a little dark besides the single light bulb that hung in the middle of the room. Dust coated nearly every surface in there. Boxes upon boxes were stacked up and placed around the room sporadically. "Whoa..."

Cheyanne gazed at the mess with wonder.  
The spectacle astounded me as well. "I didn't think it looked like this at all. My mind was set in some sort of ancient cellar filled with rats and various nasty creatures. In my dazed state of mind, I didn't realize that Cheyanne had started going through a box. Only when she accidentally dropped a metal candle holder did I snap out of it.

"Oops." she said quickly. "I just wanted to see what was inside one of these. Maybe I was hoping to find something to scare off Marina."

"Well, put it back then. We aren't supposed to be in here anyways." I said snappishly. "If we get caught, we'll probably have to clean this entire room. More specifically, I'll have to clean it but you'll help me."

"One box won't hurt, now will it? Please, Selena?" she begged. With a roll of my eyes, I threw my arms up in defeat.

"Fine! But just remember what I said happens if we get caught." Cheyanne jumped up and down in excitement before returning to the box. My eyes scanned the room, looking for something to do. Over in the corner of the room sat an odd looking object with a sheet over it. That looks interesting. Wonder what's under it. I walked to the sheet covered thing and pulled the dusty thing off.

It was a very old vanity. The white paint was chipped off in places and little pink roses that were painted on were faded. The mirror on it was cracked down the middle. Little empty bottles were scattered across the top. Inside the top right drawer, I found a stack of letters all addressed to someone named Christine. The next to I looked in held combs and hair clips of all styles. I had the bottom right drawer left to look in then I was done with snooping around in here. When I laid eyes on what was in the last drawer, I gasped.

An old handheld mirror sat at the bottom. It was made of bronze and all around the frame were tiny roses, each studded with a small red ruby. The handle looked like vines wrapped around it intricately. My mind was blown from the sheer beauty of the antique piece. I decided to share it with Cheyanne. "Hey Chey, check this out. I found it in the vanity over there."

Cheyanne's eyes widened to the size of a dinner plate. "Whoa! That is so cool. Look at what I found." She showed me a heavy wool cape and a mask, which she put on as she swished the cape around.

He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" I said. Cheyanne accidentally hit herself in the eye with the cape, causing me to giggle. "More like the Klutz of the Opera."

"I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music." Cheyanne said, her eyes peeking over the top of the cape like Dracula as she held it in front of her face. After a few more minutes of nonsense and giggles, Cheyanne took off the costume and held it in her arms. "This stuff is so much fun and it's not doing any good just sitting around doing nothing." I nodded in agreement. "We should borrow it, at least for a little while. It isn't like anybody is going to miss it."

"Cheyanne, we probably shouldn't..." I started.

"You are no fun. I'm not helping you with your calculus homework."

I looked at the mirror in my hands. Should I do the right thing? Maybe someone needs these things in here. Cheyanne probably is right, though. Who would put stuff in here and let it get all dusty without ever coming back for it? "Fine. We can 'borrow' it."  
"I knew you'd pull through!" Cheyanne squealed and hugged me.

**...**

Later that evening, I was sitting on the edge of my bed cleaning up the mirror. It was looking almost brand new. When it was cleaned to my satisfaction, I studied myself in it. So much has changed from when I left my foster parents down in Salt Lake, Utah to come here for school. My foster parents, Lisa and Beckham Carroll, got me when my biological parents got a divorce and neither of them wanted to share me. I was only ten at the time which made it even harder on me. The Carroll family made it really easy on me during the first year I was with them. My biological dad moved to California as soon as all the court stuff was done and my mom went to live with her parents in North Carolina. I've never seen them since, but they have sent me letters and money for my birthday and holidays.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. It had been years since I cried about my messed up family. I know I had Lisa and Beckham, but it wasn't the same as my real mom and dad. Mom was so excited when I told her I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up. Dad was exuberant at my first theatre performance in third grade. Having my parents divorced and technically be adopted, this made me an easy target for a victim of bullying. It started in middle school and didn't let up until my junior year of high school. First it was name calling, then teasing, and lastly rumors about me that were spread around the entire school. One time it got to be so bad that I was going to kill myself, but somebody stopped me: Cheyanne. This was when I was a junior.

I was walking home from school, avoiding riding the bus because I knew people would whisper about me and I would hear every word, whether on purpose or accident. My Algebra 2 book was held against my chest. Tears were threatening to roll down my cheeks. I had never told my foster parents about the bullying because I felt like that they'd try and move me somewhere else, but I didn't want to. I loved where we lived and some of the people around us. It would make things worse if we moved. Then, as I was walking with my head hanging down, I bumped into something. More like, someone. When I looked up, I was met to a head full of ginger hair. The girl I had bumped into nearly burst into tears as she ranted about how sorry she was and how she wasn't looking where she was going. During the entire three minutes of the incoherent rant, because she talked a million miles an hour, I stood there silently.

When she noticed I hadn't said anything, she asked me if there was something wrong with me. That is when I lost it. Laughter. Sweet, bubbly, joyous laughter fell from my lips. It had been too long since I had heard my giggles and snorts. The girl soon joined me in losing our minds. After we calmed down enough to talk, we introduced ourselves and she walked me home. We were inseparable from that day on. Everywhere Cheyanne went, I was there with her, and it was ditto for me. Things changed after our, one could say, fateful meeting. For one, the bullying stopped and two, I actually gained quite a few more friends. By the end of the school year, I was friends with almost everyone in the same grade as me.

"_Mirror, mirror on the wall, have I got it?  
'Cause mirror you've always told me, who I am?  
I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect  
So sorry, you won't define me  
Sorry, you don't own me."_

I sang to the reflection of myself. No longer did my appearance or my past effect who I was. It was part of me and I accepted it fully.

"_Who are you to tell me  
That I'm less than what I should be?  
Who are you? Who are you?  
Yeah, yeah  
I don't need to listen to the list of things I should do  
I won't try, no I won't try"_

"_Mirror I am seeing a new reflection  
I'm looking into the eyes  
Of He who made me and to Him  
I have beauty beyond compare  
I know He defines me  
Yeah, yeah"_

I'm a changed girl: stronger, confident, fearless, more beautiful, and ready to take the world on by the horns. This girl can't be tamed.

"_Who are you to tell me  
That I'm less than what I should be?  
Who are you? Who are you?  
Yeah, yeah  
I don't need to listen to the list of things I should do  
I won't try, no I won't try"_

"_You don't define me  
You don't define me  
You don't define me  
You don't define me"_

Now that I have been freed, you can't hold me down any longer. My wings will spread and I will take flight to a better day, a better life, a better person, a better me.

"_Who are you to tell me  
That I'm less than what I should be?  
Who are you? Who are you?  
Yeah, yeah  
I don't need to listen to the list of things I should do  
I won't try, no I won't try, yeah, yeah"_

"_Who are you to tell me  
That I'm less than what I should be?  
Who are you? Who are you?  
Yeah, yeah  
I don't need to listen to the list of things I should do  
I won't try, no I won't try"_

"Brava, brava, bravissima." a man's voice said from inside my room. My head snapped up and looked all around. _Who said that?_ A familiar sound filled the air. _Is that... clapping?_ "You have a beautiful voice, mademoiselle?" My eyes darted around the room, but I still couldn't find who was complimenting me.

"Who are you? Show yourself." I barked as I stood up and spun around, waiting for the intruder to show himself. "Come out now or I'll call the cops."

"Ahem." the voice came from my bed. I slowly turned and looked down at my bed. There he was, clear as day. A man wearing a stark porcelain white mask with the greenest eyes and the neatest velvet black hair was on my bed. Looking at me from inside the handheld mirror.

**A/n: What, what! Hope whoever has read this likes it. R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Glad you guys liked this story. Here is the chapter number 2.**

**Chapter 2**

"There is a man in my mirror." I said. It was inconceivable to my young adult mind. "There is a man in my mirror." My voice sounded more exasperated the second time. "You," I pointed at the Phantom in my hand held mirror. "Are in my mirror. Mine! Do you know how stupid I sound right now? How stupid I feel?"

"Mademoiselle, calm down." he said.

"Calm down? I can't calm down when there is a freaking person in my mirror." I threw my hands up in the air. "This is probably all a dream. I'm dreaming for sure. Cheyanne, please come wake me up!" She didn't come and I didn't wake up. "Chey, I need you! Cheyanne!"

"I assure you, mademoiselle, this isn't simply a dream."

"That is exactly what you would say in a dream! Ah ha!" I shouted, sounding much like a crazy person, feeling exactly like one at the time. Erik shut his mouth tightly. "See! I knew it! I just knew it!" My feet danced around in a circle while I sang about not being crazy.

"I'm still here, you know." My eyes darted down the mirror. "If you'd let me explain, I'm sure you would understand."

"Why should I listen, Erik? Or should I call you the Phantom?" I said snappily. "After all, I sort of proved that you are just a figment of my imaginative mind." Suddenly, his eyes ignited with a fire. A burning light that screamed anger.

"_How do you know those names?!_" he snarled. The Phantom's face contorted with anger. "_Tell me now!_" My heart started to thump faster. Maybe this wasn't a dream. I, for sure, would have woken up by now. Especially with all the yelling. "_Your try my patience, mademoiselle. Speak!_"

"Um..." I was speechless. "I... eh..." What was I going to say? That he was famous in this time period? Did he even know that he was in the twenty-first century? Cheyanne was at work and she couldn't help me either. "AmannamedGastonLerouxwroteabookaboutyoubackin1909 thatbecameabelovednovelthatwasmadeintoasilentmovie thenamusical."

"What?" he asked. "Speak slower. Annunciate or I may just have to raise my voice again."

"A man named Gaston Leroux wrote a book about your story in 1909. It became a famous novel. In 1925, a movie was made based on the book. Then, in 1986, a man named Andrew Lloyd Webber made it into a musical that has been playing for twenty-seven years since its making. You have an extensive phanbase, spelled p-h-a-n-b-a-s-e, which consists mostly of girls that are literally obsessed with you and your story. That sums it up pretty much." I finished. "Questions?"

"I knew that Leroux guy had been up to something..." the Phantom muttered. "So his book made me famous, huh. Wait, 1909? 1986? What year is it?"

"2013." A silence filled my room. I looked down to see that Erik was no longer there and I was left to stare at my reflection. Just as I was about to look away, the image of myself swirled away and was replaced with Erik's face.

"What is a movie" A smile lit up my face at his question. _Explaining technology is going to take quite a bit of effort. Hopefully he is cooperative._

**...**

"And that is how internet works." I said. Erik and I had gone over television, music players of all types, computers, and now internet. It was like teaching a young child, but he had an open mind and was able to believe all that I said. When I looked over at the clock, it showed that it was nearly eleven p.m. Cheyanne usually went out with some of her other friends on Friday nights and didn't get back until one in the morning. A yawn escaped my lips. Boy was I tired.

"Forgive me if I have kept you awake, mademoiselle." Erik said. He was such a gentleman when he wasn't upset.

"Selena." I sighed.

"What?"

"That is my name. You can't just call me 'mademoiselle' forever, can you?" Erik laughed. _His laugh! Oh my goodness!_ It sounded like an avalanche, low and rumbly, but it had a musical twist to it, making it sound amazing. My ears longed to hear it again.

"Oh." he said. "Well, Selena, I should probably let you get some sleep. I hope we may speak again."

I sat him down on my nightstand and smiled. "We will." I said before turning off the lamp and covering myself in my blankets. _I know we will._

**A/n: Sorry for the long wait! I have been super busy with school Bleh! I want it to be over already. Review peeps!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Hello, TV Land! Here is Chapter 3 for all you lovely people. Thanks to those who have reviewed. Sorry for the long wait; I've had bronchitis for the last week and a half. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

I sat up in my bed with a gasp. What a weird dream that was? Or was it a dream? My hand reached for the mirror sitting on my nightstand only to find it wasn't there. A twinge of pain shot through my chest. "That's all it was... I guess." Was I disappointed? Of course I was; it isn't every day that your favorite fictional character just happens to meet you. Maybe I was just a little mad at myself for allowing me to believe that wonderful, beautiful, magical dream was real. Throwing my covers off of me, I grabbed my robe and threw it on as I walked out the door of my room.

"I know, she has the most beautiful voice in the world." Cheyanne's sweet voice emanated from the kitchen. _She must be talking on the phone to one of her other friends. Although, I'm not sure I like what she's talking about. My voice isn't anything special._ "Selena should be waking up here, any moment."

"I'm already awake." I said as I walked into the kitchen. Cheyanne's face lit up with a smile as I strode into the room. "Hey, have you seen...?"

Before I could finish, Cheyanne turned and picked up something off the counter. "She's awake, Mister Phantom, sir." It was my mirror! And in it was Erik's handsome masked face. _Thank the lord that it wasn't fake!_ I took the mirror from my best friend's hands and smiled at Erik.

"Erik will do just fine, mademoiselle." Erik said curtly. "Selena, how was your rest? Are you feeling refreshed?" His speech was so eloquent and gentlemanly. With just his words, he could have a crowd of phans swooning at his feet.

"It was good. I am feeling very refreshed." I replied, taking a seat on a stool at the counter. Cheyanne grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and set down the box of cheerios in front of me. I opened the box and poured some into my bowl. "Now, Cheyanne, I have a question. Why is Erik out here, instead of in my room on my dresser?"

"Well, I went in to check on you when you were asleep and saw the mirror sitting on your nightstand. I picked it up and looked at myself in it, when all of a sudden, he appeared. I nearly screamed in the process, but he shushed me before I could even get it out. After staying quiet for a little bit, I carried it into my room and ranted at him for a good half-hour."

"It is true. She didn't believe worse than you did." Erik commented. "Mademoiselle Cheyanne, here went on and on about how impossible I was and how I was a form of electronic, which I assured her, I wasn't."

"Yup. Then I realized that I had probably had too much to drink, but didn't feel it one bit. Erik here didn't leave me until I admitted that he was, in fact, real and it wasn't any joke played on her by you." Cheyanne said. "And here we are. Eating breakfast with the Phantom. Isn't this your dream come true, Selena?" A blush seeped across my cheeks at her words. Erik didn't know that I was in his phanbase, but I'm not sure he fully understood.

"Dream come true?" Erik asked slyly. "You consider me joining you for breakfast a dream?" My cheeks burned even brighter. Erik chuckled. "I'm assuming that you are one of the many girls who would do anything to meet you, Selena, and I can see that I am right by the coloring of your face."

Cheyanne cracked up and doubled over as she laughed. _Best friend my foot! She always does this to me when I'm embarrassed._ "Oh my word, Selena! You should see your face; you're like a tomato, only redder." Cheyanne snorted and hit her hand against the counter hysterically.

"It isn't that funny, Chey." I retorted. "Remember that one time when you were so drunk that you thought the couch was a wild..." A hand shot out and covered my mouth and I followed the arm up to the red face of Cheyanne, causing me to break out into my own fits of giggles.

"You promised not to say anything about that." Chey said through clenched teeth, only causing me to lose myself. Erik joined in my bout of laughter. _This was going to be a great day..._


End file.
